The blue denim of his shorts was dirtied and nearly grey.The blue denim of his shorts was dirtied and nearly grey. "What's wrong?" I asked again. The boy swallowed, "Hurts,... real bad mister." I nodded, uncertain of what to do next. "You want me to look?" I asked. The boy looked up at me suddenly, questioningly. Slowly he decided that he could trust me. He nodded his head a fraction of an inch. Very carefully I unfastened the boy's woven red-leather belt. The clasp was harder to get to and I fumbled with it clumsily for a long while before I finally opened it. As I slowly pulled down his zipper the boy trembled. He breathed in sharply as my clumsy fingers brushed against the small bulge in his groin. I tried to pull the zipper upward and away from his body as I eased it down. Through the V of his open shorts I could see that the boy had white Fruit-of-the-Loom underpants on, only they weren't white anymore. |